Hath gave a shrug about the axe. It wasn't very powerful at all. The fact that it barely needed to be sharpened saved him time. The only other thing it did was to cut through magical constructs, and that had been useful on just one occasion. He doubted it would ever be required again; he didn't fight wizards as a habit. It did look intimidating though, which was why he had fought its previous owner for it. That, and for a female. Hath had won the fight and the axe, but not the other battle. The Dwarves shuffled, uncertainty in their eyes. Hath sniffed the meat. He could have recognised anything from home, fresh or dried and salted. This he wasn't certain of. Whilst he didn't let Lagakh far from his sight they seemed to have pushed past the most dangerous moments of finding an understanding. "Saw some of their kin a day's march from here," he said, returning to orcish. "One of these should have keys. Can throw them to one and get some distance. Just in case they go for the orc's weapons." And then us, he left unsaid.